


Always Quiet

by AngryPirateHusbands



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mention of Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 13:03:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12682449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngryPirateHusbands/pseuds/AngryPirateHusbands
Summary: Silver was an avid storyteller. He was a smooth-talker. A liar. One with loose lips and a glib tongue, one just as rich and silver as his surname alluded. Imagine Flint's surprise when that smart mouth finally fell silent, and in the last place he'd expect.





	Always Quiet

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a post by Magnetism_bind

Silver was an avid storyteller. He was a smooth-talker. A liar. One with loose lips and a glib tongue, one just as rich and silver as his surname alluded. A weaver of tales so profound that any man within hearing distance would still their breath until the very end, so overcome were they in suspense. They clung to every word with the desperate attention of an honest man being served a guilty verdict.

Flint was fairly certain the man could talk himself out of any situation, no matter how dire or fruitless it seemed. After all, how else could he have so skillfully convinced not only his crew, but him, to spare his life? Not just once, but several times over. He was a clever man, and it was clear that he had made it this far in life largely in part due to that eloquent tongue and those smirking lips.

Whats more, Silver never seemed to know quite when to stop. No matter the time, the place nor, the circumstance, he talked. It was as if he couldn’t help it. He offered up his opinions and criticisms freely, and without restraint or provocation. No matter what, he was always talking.

Imagine Flint’s surprise when that smart mouth finally fell silent.

It was not under extreme duress, as one might expect provided they never actually met the man. No… Rather, it was where Flint had actually anticipated Silver to be the most vocal. And that was within the privacy of his own cabin, beneath the slide of his wandering hands and the persistent press of his mouth. Even with the deadbolt slid across the door and the majority of the crew pissing away their wages back on shore, Silver never so much as made a sound.

Those cheeks would flush with heat, John’s jaw unhinging as he took his pleasure without restraint, yet the man remained perfectly silent. It was not unlike the dead calm before a storm, except it was one that never came. And even when Flint’s fingers stroked against that small bundle of nerves that made his knees grow weak, even when he took him deep into his throat and swallowed down around him, those fingernails biting into the nape of his neck in search of purchase, Silver didn’t make a noise.

Instead he would draw his lip between his teeth to bite back whatever moans tried to spill free. Once to the point of drawing blood.

And Flint couldn’t understand why.

Flint understood their need for secrecy, truly he did. Should any of the men learn that they had become involved, even if it were merely physical, trouble would surely follow. After all it was the quartermaster’s duty to remain impartial of their captain. To keep themselves at a distance so that they may judge their orders and actions through unclouded eyes.

But here, in this moment, Flint couldn’t understand Silver’s inability to allow himself to lose control, to fully revel in the heat and passion of the moment. There were no men present to hear them, whether it be their fervent moans or hushed whispers, or the rhythmic creak of the furniture. Yet even after Flint thumbed free that plump lower lip, the only sounds that passed between them were that of his panted breaths.

And as the pattern continued to repeat itself, Flint only found it increasingly difficult to keep silent on the matter. Until finally the evening came where his persistent curiosity finally got the better of him.

“Why are you always so quiet?” The question fell from Flint’s lips before he could help himself. He stood at the center of the cabin, tugging his trousers back up over his hips before fastening the buckles. He allowed the question to settle in the air before those green eyes flirted over to rest on Silver’s form.

His quartermaster was sprawled out over his cot, bare-asses and chest heaving as he reveled in the pleasure of his orgasm. Silver crooked his heavy leg at the knee as he peered up at him.

“Beg pardon?”

“You never make a sound,” Flint reiterated with a huff, “When we’re…” He gestured vaguely with his hand, fighting against the heat that threatened to darken his cheeks. This was something he himself was still getting used to. The talking portion. Usually they would kiss, touch, grope and fuck, and then they would be on their way. They spoke only with the press of their hands and the trace of their lips. Lately, however, they had been delving into territory far more intimate. Dangerous, even.

At this Silver quirked a brow. Yet the smirk that soon followed warmed his expression. “Are you complaining?” Silver asked as he combed his fingers through his curls. “You’re constantly bringing attention to how I can never seem to keep my mouth shut.” When Flint frowned the man’s own smile faltered. “You’re genuinely upset by this,” he realized after a moment.

Again, Flint didn’t answer. Not because of his stubbornness, but because he honestly didn’t know how to.

“Captain,” Silver tried once more as he sat up against the cot. “I enjoy what we do in here. Surely you know this?”

Flint scratched over the stubble at the base of his neck. “I suppose I just don’t understand why you can’t..” He swallowed thickly as he fought to better organize his thoughts. “It just seems,” he continued cautiously after a moment, “That you’re almost… afraid of being overhead. And I honestly find myself wondering why–”

“James.”

Flint’s words died in his throat at the use of his first name. Silver was giving him a look he was certain he had never before seen on those usually smug features. The uncertainty held within those eyes caused a lump to form in the pit of Flint’s stomach.

“It’s got nothing to do with you,” Silver assured him, his gaze lowering as he massaged the muscle above his stump. “It’s got nothing to do with this, with us. It’s just the way I am. It’s… Habit.”

Flint’s brow furrowed. “Fear is habit?”

“That’s not what I meant,” SIlver huffed with a shake of his head. “I told you before where I spent my childhood.”

Flint, not quite understanding where he was going with this, gaze a faint nod of his head. “You told me you spent three years at an orphanage.”

Silver chuckled. “Yes, well… I actually spent all of my childhood there,” he admitted. It was not lost on him how he had begun to fidget with the bedsheets. “St. John’s Home for Poor Orphan Boys… Run by men of strict faith and pretended virtue, as I’m sure you can imagine.. Now imagine two boys, close friends each on the cusp of manhood, sharing less than innocent touches within the confines of some small closet. And what happens when their carelessness leads to them being overheard.”

Flint fought to swallow down the lump that had formed in his throat. How could he not have guessed? After a pause he recounted, “You also once said that you had an exceptionally low tolerance for pain.”

Silver chuckled grimly. “Where do you think it was that I first discovered that?”

“John.” Now it was Flint’s turn to extend this strange, newfound form of intimacy. Of comfort. “Nothing like that is going to happen again. You’re safe here.”

At this Silver smirked. “You mean, as safe as one could possibly be living a life of piracy.” As he spoke his fingers moved over the scarred tissue below his knee.

Flint stole away his expression as he stepped forward to press his lips to the top of that forehead. “I suppose so, yes,” he relented after a moment. He nosed against those dark curls before sinking to his knees before him. “But I mean it. You don’t need to be afraid, you don’t need to hide. I want to hear you.”

Silver smiled faintly as he draped his arms over Flint’s broad shoulders. “Be careful, Captain,” he warned, that familiar glint returning to his eyes. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were starting to care for me.”

Flint sighed in exasperation, his thumbs stroking over Silver’s cheeks before he captured those lips with his own.

While it would take several weeks, the time finally came where Silver heeded his words. Where he dropped his guard, and allowed himself to be swept away completely by the throes of their passion. And there it was, a gentle moan, soft and supple, and Flint was certain it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. The first of many more to come.


End file.
